33. My delivery guy hates me
33
MY DELIVERY GUY HATES ME
M y conversation with Molly about Will has been playing in my head on a loop for days. I was able to forgive her, but not Will? A man who’s loved me more than anyone ever has. The only man I’ve ever truly loved.
And maybe that was the reason I wasn’t ready to forgive him yet. Because it hurt so much. But was I really willing to let a potential life partner go because of a mistake? A big one, no doubt, but one where the intent wasn’t a malicious one?
He’d proven several times over in the past that he was dependable and kind. Even with the whole vet bill thing—though misguided—he did it so I wouldn’t have to keep struggling. Because he sees me and could tell just how tired I am of things falling apart all around me—even if I’ve been in denial about it myself.
Sigh .
I don’t know much of anything anymore. All I know is my head is a mess, and my heart is confused and bruised, and I miss him like crazy.
Though talking to Molly was incredibly helpful, ironically enough, he’s the only one I want to hear from right now. And I guess that just goes to show how supportive Will has always been with me that I still ache to talk to him.
I contemplate all this as I serve myself a Diet Coke while I wait for my Chinese food. It was a long day at work, but it’s finally the weekend, and I’m mildly excited for it. I don’t have big plans other than completing a few projects I started last weekend—a threadbare Missoni knit dress that can use a revival, a Halston wide-leg white silk pant that’s unfortunately yellowed with age and needs to be lightened, and a pair of vintage Doc’s from the eighties that need a good buffing and maybe a cool paint job—but I’m looking forward to it.
When my intercom’s buzzer goes off, I very nicely ask the delivery man to bring it up.
“No, ma’am,” he says. Ouch. Ma’am? Really? “Six floors is too much. You come down and get it.”
“No, I totally understand. And normally I would. But, see, I would really appreciate it if you could bring it up because I’m exhausted—I’ve been on my feet all day—and was wondering whether just this once you’d be able to make an exception and?—”
“ Ma’am .” Oh my god with the ma’am. “What do you think I do for a living? Sit in a comfy chair all day?”
“I—I guess not. I’m sure you’ve probably been all around the city delivering food, huh?”
“Exactly. So why don’t you come and get your food? If not, I’ll leave it here on the stoop but I am not coming up.”
“Please. I know it’s?—”
“I got it,” a familiar voice cuts through our discussion. “I mean. If that’s okay with you, Bridge. For me to come up.”
I’m silent for a moment, shell-shocked. “Will?” He’s here?
“Yeah, I…” He clears his throat. “Listen, you don’t even have to talk to me if you don’t want to, but I can bring your food up to you if you’d like. I can leave it just outside your door. I also have something I wanted to give you, if that’s okay.”
“I—”
“Fantastic! Here you go my friend. I’m off.”
Silence. I still haven’t buzzed him up. “Did the delivery guy just…?”
“Leave? Yeah.” He sighs. “Listen, if seeing me is too much, just buzz me in so I can at least leave your food in the lobby. I don’t want to leave it on the stoop and have some random stranger take it while you’re on your way downstairs. At least if it’s inside you have a better chance of it surviving theft.”
“In this building? Not a chance,” I say with a laugh. And it feels so good to laugh, even if it’s not a full-bellied one.
Will also laughs on the other end of the intercom, and it sounds like heaven.
“So, what do you want to do then?” he asks. “I promise you I won’t pressure you into anything.”
I press my forehead against the door frame by the intercom, thinking. I could just do what he says. Buzz him in, ask him to just leave the food inside the building for me to pick up once he’s gone. Avoid seeing him altogether. Or I could embrace the fact that he’s here so we can… I don’t know. Talk? I’m not sure what the right move is here.
All I know is that I miss him, and if he’s here to say something, I want to hear what it is, regardless of whether or not I’m supposed to want to hear it or not. At the end of the day, my love for him didn’t just disappear into thin air. It’s still here, every day, in everything that reminds me of him and us. In every small moment we spent together I treasure, and every big gesture he ever made. From late nights spent talking well into the next morning, to teasing him about the way he ate his cereal—something I still don’t get to this day. From the way he loved my cat to the way he stood up for me every time he felt I was wronged.
I take a steeling breath and make my decision. “Come on up.”